


Why Don't You Talk To Each Other?

by Sismyn



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Coda, M/M, Malex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 16:36:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18641935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sismyn/pseuds/Sismyn
Summary: thbbbfetttttokay look virtually no one is happy with the ending of 1.13 (that means this CONTAINS SPOILERS) so here's my take on it. I have very little sense of time. mostly I wanted to make them talk to each other . no hating on maria allowed. in fact no hating on any of them. bone apple teat





	Why Don't You Talk To Each Other?

By the time Michael got through the Dido song, his hand was shaking and pained. He put the guitar back up and frowned at his hand. Max was way too late to fix it. He'd only changed the way it looked and hurt.

But he could play for a couple minutes, and in that quiet, he realized he was doing the wrong thing. He remembered he'd told Alex to come back today. And if he did anything with Maria, he'd hurt her more. 

She turned when he stood. By her face, she'd reached the same conclusion, but she also looked at his hand pointedly. He rubbed it uncomfortably.

"So we should talk," she said.

He nodded, and she indicated the stool beside her. He sat, though he was suddenly aware that Alex may very well be waiting for him.

"You're a good friend, Michael, and a fabulous kisser. But I was right before." She rearranged some papers. "I'm not going to let being physically attracted to you get in the way. Because... you've never heard Alex talk about you."

"What do you mean?"

Maria glanced at him. "Even before I knew it was you, I knew he'd found a love so big and important, and that,  _ you _ changed his very soul."

"Come on," he said skeptically.

She turned and held out her hands. "Gimme."

He purposely offered his right hand, and she squinted, especially at the face he made because his hidden left hand clenched in pain. "And I have questions, but I know you would tell me if you knew a way to help my mother. So this, you and Alex, is more important. Understand?"

"Of course," he said, gulping. If Max could do anything about mental illness, Isobel's blackouts would have ended ages ago. Like his hand, it was too complex.

She smiled and turned his palm up. Maria shut her eyes and traced the lines there with her fingers. "Good. See... I don't know what you were like before him, Michael. You've always been closed off and difficult to read. But there is something parallel." Her smile turned melancholy. "I'm glad you like me, Michael, but it will never compare to what you and Alex have. What is that? Ah. It's something cosmic."

Michael stood and pulled away suddenly in surprise. Maria opened her eyes and leaned on her fist. "You really... You really are psychic, DeLuca."

"I keep telling people." She began to count a stack of cash. "You have somewhere else to be."

"Thank you. You're, you're amazing. I'm sorry. I... He's waiting for me."

"Then go. And tell me about your hand when you make up with him."

Michael nodded for slightly too long, then he kissed her cheek, eliciting a real smile from her. 

He hurried to his truck and drove straight home, perhaps a bit too fast for the traffic laws.

* * *

 

Alex was indeed waiting for him. Did Michael spot a leather jacket? What a damn snack. He stood and leaned on his crutch as Michael pulled up.

"I'm sorry," he said as soon as he was out of the car, feeling like he'd just run for miles. "Were you waiting long?"

Alex shook his head and went to the bed of the truck. "What's an hour or two after all these years of waiting for us to be at the same place again?"

Michael laughed shortly and sat beside him. "I've had a weird twenty-four hours, Alex."

"You've had a major trauma, Guerin." Alex took Michael's nearest hand absently. "What happened last night?"

Michael rubbed his forehead, as if he could telekinetically gather his thoughts. 

"That  _ was _ your blood, wasn't it?" Alex prompted.

"Yes, yes." But he still didn't know how to start.

"We left you at the Airstream. Where did you go?" he asked gently.

"The pods." He looked down at their hands. Alex rubbed his thumb over Michael's wrist comfortingly. "I was looking for Noah. Wanted answers. But he was gone. So I went to Max's. He'd broken out or something, so they were letting him die. But Max had antidote." Defensively, he said, "I needed answers."

"You deserve answers," Alex affirmed.

"Max shot it out of my hand, and I lost control. No one pisses me off like Max. I shoved him through his French doors, and I could feel the pain of that, but I still needed answers. I tried to drag Noah out, make him take me to the antidote he stole, but he stabbed me in the neck with the broken syringe."

Michael realized at the same time as Alex what had actually happened next. He thought he'd merely been knocked unconscious. He had bled out.

"I died."

Eyes wide, Alex pulled Michael's collar down to examine his neck, but Michael swatted his hand away. "I'm fine. Max must've, must've healed me. He and Noah were both gone when I woke up, so I came here to figure out where to start looking. And change shirts."

Michael stopped his story and looked at Alex seriously. "You are nothing like your father.  _ Nothing _ ." He frowned, and Michael touched his shoulder. "Did you look in the mirror while wearing this? You look  _ hot _ ."

Alex cracked a smile, but it faltered. "I came to see you because Kyle had started going through the hard drives from Caulfield. He found video of my, my dad pushing his dad into one of the cells. N-38. The man in there could cause rapid onset cancer."

Michael squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't want to think of Caulfield. Alex gently rubbed his shoulder. He opened his eyes again and looked at him sharply. "And that's what made you think you're like him?"

"He's a monster. And I wonder if, if I'd push  _ him _ into that cell."

"Alex," Michael said coolly. "There would be no cell to push him into if you were in that position. But I've got to admit, I am a hundred percent behind you in punting your dad into the sun."

Alex snorted. "Kyle texted me this morning. Turns out he had a breakdown and almost bought a gun, bought a bulletproof vest instead, and shot my dad up with barbiturates. He's in the hospital in a coma." Michael stood up immediately, but Alex pulled him back down. "Hold on. We can go be smug later."

Michael made a face that said that he was not interested in being smug but rather in some sort of vengeful violence. Still, something else he said reached him. "Bulletproof vest? Is Valenti okay?"

"Yes. Dad shot him but hit him in the vest. He's got a bad bruise, but he's alive." Alex sighed. "Go on. You left again because of something psychic, right?"

Michael nodded. "Noah had Max and Isobel at our pods, he said he was gonna kill us. I drove straight there, and I shoved him into a wall as hard as I could. Isobel was unconscious, Max was being tortured. A-And Max asked me to hold Noah off and ran out into the storm. I couldn't, I couldn't hold him off. I don't know exactly what happened, Noah hit me. When I woke up, he was dead, Max killed him."

He felt nauseous, remembering everything. His hand twitched, and he went all the way back to Caulfield, right before it exploded, and remembered the biggest, most blatant lie he'd ever told. And he remembered what Maria had just told him. He bit his lip. He had to say it.

"I lied before. You called me on it, but I need you to know for real. Alex, I love you."

Alex laid back on the truck bed. That was music to his ears. That was worth the wait, that was worth everything. He tugged Michael down beside him, found his hand, and squeezed it. "I love you, too."

They stared up at the clouds, light and fluffy. Michael put their hands over his chest with a soft smile. "You said you thought I loved you for a long time, and you were right. I never stopped. I just got caught up in everything, my mom, Max, Noah, I wanted to be normal for a minute. I wanted to stop thinking. I'm sorry."

Alex furrowed his eyebrows. "What did you do?"

"I went to the Wild Pony. To Maria."

He frowned, but he didn't pull away. "Why?"

"She's the only one of my friends left who doesn't know about the alien stuff. I know she's your best friend, too, so I'm sorry. It was wrong. And, Alex..."

"Yeah?"

"We shouldn't keep her in the dark, either." He held up their hands, and he turned his so Alex could see the smooth skin. "She saw my hand, and I'm not going to lie to her when she finally asks about it."

Alex grabbed Michael's hand to examine it more closely, and he flinched. Alex immediately let his hand go, afraid he'd hurt him. "What happened?"

"Max tried to heal it, right after he killed Noah. I didn't want him to. It felt all right at first, but it's still seizing up when I use it, worse than before." His hand found Alex's again. "But that doesn't make me glass. You can still hold my hand."

"Good." Still, he held on gently. "You're right. Maria should know."

Michael nodded with an air of finality. He made a face and his hand clenched suddenly. 

"Take a deep breath," Alex said, running his hand up and down Michael's arm soothingly. "Relax, Guerin."

"I wish Max hadn't done that," he said after a moment. "I could deal with it before. How'd you know that would help?"

"My foot does the same thing."

"Your... foot?"

Alex nodded. "It's not there. I know it's not. But sometimes I can feel it spasm, and it hurts."

"Phantom limb, right?"

"Right. So that's what I do when it does that. Learned it in physical therapy."

Michael turned and rested his free hand on Alex's thigh. "That happen often for you?"

He shrugged. "Weirdly, the prosthetic helps. Makes it feel numb. But that won't help you. Your hand's still attached."

"I'm not asking for me. If you're hurting, I want to help, too." 

Alex nodded, even though he generally wasn't one to ask for help.

Michael pulled his hand out of Alex's just to swap for his other and use his own bicep as a pillow. He just wanted to look at him.

"We're really going to try this, huh?" Alex was more comfortable playing with his good hand. 

"If-If you want to."

Alex tangled their fingers together. "Go on a date with me, Guerin?"

Michael lifted his head and kissed Alex's cheek. "Hell yeah. Where we going?"

"I wanna stay here for now. With you."

"All right." He fidgeted, but this was good. Good. It didn't feel like a crash landing at all. He sat up suddenly, remembering his morning with Isobel. There was way too much, but that, what they found, was important.

"What is it?" Alex said, worried. He sat up, too.

"We found Noah's lair this morning. His pod. Rosa--" He shouted out as a psychic pain drove a spike through his guts, sharper than last night. He saw a flash of Rosa. Michael jumped up with a growl. "That  _ idiot _ !"

He expected the pain to wear off, and when it didn't, he stumbled backwards; Alex caught his shoulders. "What's happening?"

"Max is-- Max is--"

"Can you drive?" he asked, already picking up his crutch and heading to his car for his bag. He didn't know how much a first aid kit would help, but it was something.

"Yes, you're-- you're coming?"

"I'm not letting you go alone."

Michael peeled away from the junkyard toward the desert.

"What were you saying about Rosa?"

"That disgusting piece of shit stole her body and had her in his pod this whole time." Michael grimaced. The psychic pain was not going away. He was beginning to fear the worst. Alex looked flabbergasted. "Max was supposed to talk to Liz, so we could come up with a plan, but I think he just-- he tried to revive her."

Michael floored it.

"Can he actually do that?"

"He couldn't do it a decade ago!" Michael took a deep breath. "We don't know how soon Noah got ahold of her, the pod would have kept her more or less in stasis from there. But it beats the shit out of Max to bring back warm corpses, and she'd been through an autopsy!"

The pain was making his eyes water. 

If Max wasn't dead, Michael was going to kill him himself.

Michael kept both his hands on the steering wheel; he knew he was going way too fast and needed full control. He sniffed when Alex put a hand on his knee.

"Do you think things are ever going to settle down?" Michael asked.

"They better. I owe you a date."

"Yeah you do!" The psychic pain finally began to recede, leaving a cold emptiness. "Damn it, Max!"

Alex's hand anchored him down, and they parked beside Liz's car...

**Author's Note:**

> is alien jesus okay? find out next time on roswell nm  
> also a note about disability: I'm able-bodied and doin my best to represent / maintain representation but obviously I lack actual experience on the matter. lmk if it sounds like bullshit (:


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